


sentimentalism

by myfairnemesis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-22 12:49:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22216336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myfairnemesis/pseuds/myfairnemesis
Summary: Two years after the war, Harry finds solace in an unexpected relationship, one which he didn't know he needed.- Or, in which Draco Malfoy tries to change the past by opening up in the present.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Kudos: 14





	sentimentalism

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story for the fandom and I hope you like it! I know this chapter is short but the following one will come soon, so stay tuned! I’m also in very need of a beta, so if anyone could help , please message me ;3; Feedback of any kind is always welcome!  
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter or any of JK’s characters.

**sen·ti·men·tal·ism**

/ˌsen(t)əˈmen(t)lˌizəm/

_noun_

the excessive expression of feelings of tenderness, sadness, or nostalgia in behavior, writing, or speech.

***

The days were slower in Grimmauld Place.

At first, Harry didn’t notice. It was only one month later that he acknowledged that, when he spent his first weekend without having to unpack things or deal with the fuss of his friends attempting to make the place more livable after two years of complete abandonment.

And then he had been busy with his job, throwing himself into every case he could find, filling his mind with information on victims and dark wizards on the run, the first to arrive at the Ministry and the last to leave.

It was his way to cope and if Harry was good at something, he would definitely bet on his ability to abstract things and keep going. The Boy Who Lived not only a mystical title, but a part of his personality – he lived, he survived and kept going, even with everything he had lost.

So, when he lost another thing, he didn’t pause. He took action, made decisions and found himself working hard during the week, falling asleep instantly when he hit the bed by night and arranging furniture with Ron and Hermione by the weekends.

Those days passed in a flash, and Grimmauld Place, old and magical, filled with history that Harry swore to uncover after he settled down, seemed to be the perfect house for his needs of distraction.

But then moving was over, everything was in its place, Ron and Hermione had their lives to live and his job naturally slowed down. The world returned to move in its normal speed and then, it was just Harry, in a house too big for himself, with all the memories of the things that transpired there. Nights now seemed to last a week and weekends seemed to last a month.

Even so, even if he felt like he was living in slow motion and even if he felt a little bit lonely, Harry didn’t regret his decision. The process of moving out wouldn’t last forever, he knew. He just needed to find something else to focus. 

He tried on the first weekend. All of his friends were busy and Harry wasn’t in the mood for going out either, so he started his promise of uncovering Grimmauld Place’s secrets.

Half an hour later he stopped, as he felt his heart clench when he read something on Sirius. He closed the book, stored it away and spent the rest of the weekend reading and re-reading files from work – even though they weren’t complex or anything.

Monday came like a sweet relief, though his feelings from the weekend seemed to have contaminate all the other days. Nights, specially, were tough, Harry’s mind awake and alert when all he wanted to do was shut his eyes and sleep.

Suddenly and abruptly, it was Saturday again and Harry once more found himself alone with the perspective of nothingness for the next 48 hours.

He knew that he could go to Ron and Hermione’s, but he preferred to give them a break. They had already helped so much last month, sacrificing their free time just do be with him. And Harry was glad for it but, kindness, even from friends, had to have certain limitations. Even with all they’ve been through together, the last thing Harry wanted was to be a bother, an uncontrolled force that pulled people into his problems and made him the center of everything. Though many times that seemed to be the case, he tried his hardest to not.

So, after forcing himself to have some breakfast (it had become harder and harder to eat nowadays, his body constantly losing weight and his clothes starting to hang loosely on his limbs), Harry settled himself in the living room of Grimmauld Place, another file from work on his lap, resigning for another lost weekend.

If he was being honest, the whole scene was quite sad and lonely, but until he found a solution of what he would do with so many hours to spare and the risk of his mind wondering to places he didn’t want to go, he would go for that.

One and a half hour later of reading, re-reading and sometimes blankly staring at the papers without seeing anything, Harry heard someone knock on the front door.

It was so faint that if Harry wasn’t immersed in completely silence, he certainly wouldn’t have listened. He closed the file and glance briefly at the clock on the wall. It wasn’t nearly noon, which was odd.

Who would visit him so early on a Saturday? And focus on the _who_ of said question: No one, but Ron and Hermione knew he was now living in Grimmauld Place. A brief thought crossed his mind, one of who could be at the door, and he felt his palms instantly start to sweat.

He didn’t want to face that, not yet.

Another knock on the door, still faint, but more decisive. Harry mentally counted ten seconds before standing up and making his way towards the door.

 _Better now than never_ , he thought.

‘Hello, Gi-’, he started to say as soon as he opened the door, but immediately stopped when he saw exactly _who_ was at his doorstep.

Draco Malfoy stood there, dressed in muggle clothes and looking petrified with his fist frozen in mid-air, ready to knock again.

Harry felt himself froze too, his mind not quite believing what his eyes were seeing. Time, who was already sluggardly in Grimmauld Place, seemed to have stopped completely, as he and Malfoy stared at each other in what it felt like eternity, like a spell had been cast at the two of them.

Then, suddenly, some heavenly force seemed to descend upon Harry, cause his body actually began to move again, his mouth opening to verbalize the words that have been on his mind since Harry first laid his eyes upon his visitor:

‘Oh’

This firm and clarifying declaration from Harry’s part seemed to wake Malfoy from his stupor. He laid down his hand.

‘Uh, good morning’, Malfoy muttered and Harry noticed how he struggled to keep eye contact, like he’d rather be looking at anywhere but Harry. Malfoy’s grey eyes looked uncertain and conflicted as they bore into his.

‘It’s been a while’.

 _Sure it has_ , Harry thought, trying to suppress some of his astonishment to answer, but Malfoy continued to speak.

‘I hope I’m not bothering or anything, it’s rather early and I didn’t know if you would be home at all. I can come back later –’

‘No’, Harry managed to voice something coherent, interrupting Malfoy as he seemed to start a never-stopping monologue, speaking so fast that Harry forgot to be shocked by the fact the Malfoy was actually being polite, ‘ _No_ , I mean – it’s fine, I just –’, Harry scratched his head, feeling uneasy, ‘- wasn’t expecting, that’s all’.

Malfoy nodded in response, his eyes turning to fix on his shoes ( _muggle_ shoes, Harry noticed once more).

‘But I wasn’t doing anything’, Harry continued, trying to reassure the other man, ‘You didn’t interrupt me’.

‘Oh-’ Malfoy turned to look at Harry again and Harry saw a glimpse of relief on his face, ‘That’s good’.

‘Yeah’, agreed Harry, feeling his own face soften.

‘It _sure_ has been a while’ he declared, titling his head to the side as he eyed Malfoy, ‘I’m sorry, but how did you know-’

‘Do you have some time now?’ Malfoy said, abruptly.

Harry stopped, confused.

‘Uh, what?’

‘Can we talk?’ Malfoy asked, and though his voiced sounded clear, Harry could feel he was nervous, ‘I promise I will explain everything’.

‘Uh, sure’ Harry blinked, not really _sure_ of anything. Still, he stepped out of the way, waving a hand for Malfoy to enter, who gave another silent nod and made his way in.

As Harry closed the door behind them, he briefly wondered how his weekend had gave such an unexpected and shocking turn, feeling in the corner of his mind a small and odd sentiment of gratitude towards Draco Malfoy.

He _definitely_ will have a distraction now.


End file.
